The Stand-up Goalie: Life lessons from the crease
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- Last Updated on Monday, 03 December 2012 17:53
By Hans Eisenbeis
It’s a curious thing in life that someone always seems to be bigger, faster, better, smarter. It’s easy to believe that you’re something special when you forget the mirror is attached to the wall and the wall is attached to the rest of the world, and somewhere out there – probably closer than you think – there is someone with a harder slapshot or a better Mohawk turn or a faster glove hand.
With goaltenders, this is a complicated business, because so much of the game is played in the head. Confidence dictates that you know you can make that save, but the scoresheet often says otherwise.
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The Stand-up Goalie: What’s in a team name?
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- Last Updated on Wednesday, 21 November 2012 17:46
By Hans Eisenbeis
Years ago, I created a little tradition that’s a highlight of the year: The Squirt and I take a father-son trip somewhere north just before hockey season starts. The last time we made this trip, it was a chilly weekend of camping on the North Shore, where the father demonstrated how NOT to start a fire using two shots of whiskey, five wet logs and a half-gallon of stove fuel.
This year, we were planning to head up to Eveleth to the U.S. Hockey Hall of Fame. Normally it’s like dragging donkeys into the barn trying to get kids to your average museum, but the Squirt has been bugging me about the Eveleth trip for a couple of seasons now.
As it turned out though, the U.S. Hockey Hall of Fame has somewhat limited hours, and we couldn’t make the schedule work until next summer. Instead, we made a trip to what I guess you could call the Hockey Hall of Infamy – the Ralph Englestad Arena in Grand Forks, home of ... well, the University of North Dakota’s unnamed hockey team. Of course, as soon as you’re north of St. Cloud, you begin to see signage and logos indicating that you’re heading into Fighting Sioux territory.
The Stand-up Goalie: Hockey wannabe, heal thyself!
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- Last Updated on Monday, 29 October 2012 14:47
By Hans Eisenbeis
In every crowd of Very Talented Hockey Parents, there’s always at least one upstanding, well-meaning person who has two annoying things to say: “If you don’t like the way the association is being run, join the board and change it.” (True. Inarguable. Annoying.) And “Don’t try to relive the glory of your own experiences through your kids.” (This too is true, inarguable and annoying. )
At the rink the other day, one of my favorite Hockey Dads was saying how soccer and hockey had become the family’s sole source of entertainment and social life throughout the year. What used to be dinner parties with work colleagues had morphed into pizza parties with red-faced people in Bauer windbreakers. Saturday morning coffee klatches were now held at the rink instead of the café, and the topic of conversation wasn’t the proper role of government in our lives, but the proper flex pattern for a second-year Squirt.
“Well, I guess it’s good, cheap fun,” he said to me. We scratched our heads and thought about that for a moment. “Wait, it’s not cheap at all.” We both laughed out loud. How many dinner dates, babysitters and movie nights could a year’s worth of association fees pay for?
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The Stand-up Goalie: Evolution of the Rink Rat
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- Last Updated on Monday, 05 November 2012 23:31
By Hans Eisenbeis
Is the rink rat an endangered species? I have to wonder.
Back in the day, roughly about the time when a Georgia peanut farmer was the leader of the free world, I used to get dropped off at the rink whenever it was convenient for my parents. That could mean three or four hours before practice – and hanging out for a few hours after practice, which is probably why I wasn’t home when the NHL called.
I never seemed to mind, though, because there was always a game to watch on the ice, or pucks to shag in the bleachers. Just when it might have gotten boring, there were other rink rats to pal around with, some of them budding young felons with clever ways to filch candy out of the machines with their skinny arms and tiny hands.
The Stand-up Goalie: Hockey Dad loses an edge
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- Last Updated on Monday, 22 October 2012 14:30
By Hans Eisenbeis
We are all equipment managers for our players, and some parents take this job more seriously than others. There are dads I know who keep helmet repair kits in their glove box, special little scissors for expert tape jobs, spare elbow pads and an emergency stash of Gatorade pre-loaded in an epi-pen syringe (“I’m afraid it’s critical: This kid isn’t backchecking! Twenty CC’s of Frost Glacier Freeze, stat!”).
A good equipment manager will, as with the oxygen masks on an airplane, take care of himself before attempting to help his offspring, so the dads I really admire keep a flask of “medicinal” scotch available. This approach can be overdone though. I know one unctuous equipment manager who brings a portable Bloody Mary bar to games, and that dad is often tighter than the skates, to put it gently.
